Memories
by Mega-Erofan
Summary: After the death of Lu Bu and his acceptance into Wei, Zhang Liao finds himself haunted by the past and can only look to one way to relieve the pain in his heart.


Zhang Liao sighs solemnly as he stares out into the night sky through one of the large windows in his room, the dark blue littered with shimmering white glimmers that seem so many miles away. He once appreciated watching as the clouds passed by to cloak the stars and moon behind their navy blue forms or observing the full moon on the clearest of nights but that appreciation had died months ago, along with him. He turns away from the window to stare at the ceiling. Everything that had once made him happy seems to have abandoned him, making the ache in his heart throb ever more painfully. The simple joys he once found in life all seem to hold nothing but regret and sorrow now as they only remind him of that day.

That day when he had lost nearly everything could never leave his thoughts, it never would. A haunting memory if the moment in his life that fractured his heart, leaving it without any means to repair it. All that he had once fought for was now but mere words upon a man's lips, an unheard dream that would never come true and a passion that would never see the light of day. Try as he might to keep his thoughts from wandering to his memories of him, nothing could stop them once his name passed through the weary warrior's mind, a name that has left him restless for days now, a name he could never forget: Fengxian.

He turns away and buries his face in the blue silk covers of his bed, the familiar sting of tears in his eyes forcing him to hide, so that no one may see them. No one knows of these pains that he alone has dealt with since his recruitment months ago and it was best that way. No one should know that such a battle worn man could be reduced to tears merely from his own memories, the memories he had been trying to forget, though his mind held onto them desperately. Not because it wants to but because it was the only thing keeping him together while also tearing him apart, an inner conflict with no feasible end.

"I'm sorry," Zhang Liao quietly murmurs into the silken blue sheets, gripping them tightly in his fists as he fights back the tears that were begging for release. He chokes back the sobs that try to escape him, causing his body to tremor as his emotions rage within him. "How can I go on without you? How can I serve the one that took you from me? How is it I still live today while you no longer walk among us?" He lifts his face from the tear stained covers, feeling more of the bitter liquid run down his moist cheek as bits of earth brown hair fall into his face. "Why could it not have been me instead?" The General blindly reaches his hand out, searching the bed for something, anything that could relieve him of the pain that tortures his heart. His hand slips under his pillows, grabbing the cool handle of something hidden underneath. He slowly pulls out the object, revealing it to be a small dagger. The blade was smooth, decorated with a black dragon that snakes its way up the blade, coming just an inch away from the tip where it bellows golden flames to reach the tip. The edge is sharp, having been well kept since its creation, almost compulsively by the General. And the ebony handle was without any visible flaws, perfect in every way from the way it fit into his hand to the smooth surface. It looks brand new, as if the minute weapon had been made just days ago, but truthfully the item had been in his possession for nearly five years.

The dagger had been a gift to Zhang Liao from someone dear to him and was meant to keep him safe in battle if ever his axes were out of reach. He never used it in battle but he found another use for it, though it was quite the opposite of its original purpose. He pulls back the left sleeve of his robes, revealing his forearm, which is wrapped protectively in bandages, which appear disheveled from being unwrapped and rewrapped multiple times. Zhang Liao clumsily unwinds the bandages from around his arm, slowly revealing the clear evidence of his emotions that have wreaked havoc on his mind so violently over the months. Various scars run between his wrist and elbow, some are longer while others have been cut deeper, clearly showing just how vicious his own memories were making him. The General brings the blade to his wrist and bites his lip as he cuts into another scar, slowly dragging the knife through his flesh until the pain subsides, leaving him numb as he pulls the now crimson stained weapon from his arm, watching as the blood runs from the fresh mark and drips onto the blue silk sheets. The cut only provides temporary relief as the sharp pang returns to his chest, racking his body with convulsions as the ache grow with each ragged breath.

"I can't." The warrior quietly whimpers under her breath, his voice cracking as tears sting his eyes again. "I can't live with this pain anymore. I can't live with the guilt. I can't bear to remain here without you. I just can't." He raises the blade to his throat, feeling tears spill from his eyes as the cool edge nicks at the sensitive skin on his throat from the trembling of his hand, feeling his heartbeat through the handle as he presses against his jugular. "Forgive me…Fengxian."

A hand firmly grips on his shoulder, ceasing the General's action, his body tenses up in fear and surprise at the sudden contact. How had someone entered his room without him knowing or realizing? Who had invaded his quarters without making a sound? And how much had his unknown audience heard and seen in his emotionally driven mania? The dark-haired warrior chances a glance over his shoulder, startled by the identity of the man that stood behind him. Despite the lack of light in the room, the man's spiky ink black hair and grass green eye are easily recognized. The blue-robed warrior looks away shamefully as the one-eyed General behind him grabs his armed hand and pulls it way then carefully and easily prying the knife from his grip before sitting beside him. He quietly examines the blade in what little moonlight came in through the windows for a minute or so before he speaks.

"I doubt this blade was made as a means to end your life, Wenyuan."

"What does it matter about a weapon's purpose, Yuanrang?" Zhang Liao murmurs quietly, refusing to look at the other General, though his presence was undeniable.

"A weapon's purpose means more than you think, especially when it has been gifted to one by another." Xiahou Dun sighs. "I figured even you would know that." Zhang Liao's bright hazel eyes shift to the older General in surprise.

"How do you-"

"The name of the giver is inscribed on the handle, along with your own name." Xiahou Dun states. "It's difficult to see on a dark handle unless you have the proper lighting." He points out the hidden engravings on the handle in the moonlight, revealing Zhang Liao's name and a name the other General was too familiar with as he quickly looks away to hide the tears building in his eyes again. "You miss him, don't you?"

The younger simply nods, choking back a sob as it racks his body, the tears he has struggled to hold back leaking out from behind closed eyes. The one-eyed warrior gently wipes a tear from the General's cheek before resting his hand on the other's shoulder. "I understand, though I doubt he would want you to end your life with the gift he gave you to preserve it."

Zhang Liao glances towards his comrade then looks away shamefully. "You're wrong." He murmurs bitterly, receiving a curious glance from his friend. "You'll never understand what it's like to lose the only thing that ever kept you together, to continue living while the life you once cherished lies among the dead, to lie awake wondering what you could've done differently and why is was him instead of you that was taken." His gaze returns, his teary eyes now burning with a smoldering anger "You'll _never_ know what that's like."

The other remains silent for a moment, allowing his comrade to calm down before speaking. "It is true, I may not know exactly what it's like to lose someone you love but I have lost fellow warriors that were almost like brothers to me long ago and I mourned for all of them. But taking your own life is not the answer to it, it never is." Xiahou Dun explains, moving closer to the trembling man, the dagger still in his hand as he moves it into the other's line of sight. "He gave you this weapon to ensure you would live if you were ever in any danger and no one was able to protect you, even him. He wanted you to live on and continue fighting, even if it meant leaving him behind."

"But I-I don't want to forget about him, I-I can't." Zhang Liao shakily murmurs. "No matter h-how hard I try, they a-always comes back to me-the memories."

"No one ever said you had to forget him." Xiahou Dun sighs, forcing the younger General to turn to him, meeting gaze with teary hazel orbs. "Keep your memories close but don't let them dictate your life. Continue to live as he would want you to, Wenyuan, but never forget those times you two shared, those precious moments that you can never have with another. No matter how many years may pass, your memory will always be there to remind you of those simpler days, even if they carry sorrow with them."

Zhang Liao's demeanor crumbles as sobs shakily escape him, his body going numb as the one-eyed General pulls him into an embrace, allowing the young warrior to quietly cry into his chest. The comforting whispers of sweet nothings lulling the numbness and pain that envelope him, allowing him to truly feel for once in so many months. After a few minutes, he pulls away from the older man, looking up with eyes still blurry with tears as a sad smile tugs at his lips.

"Thank you, Yuanrang." He murmurs tiredly, the nights of restlessness prior to now weighing on his mind as he realizes just how long he has been fighting sleep.

"It's no trouble, Wenyuan. Now you should get some rest now. You'll need it if Shu ever plans to attack us soon." Xiahou Dun softly chuckles, hesitantly returning the knife to the younger warrior's hands. "And this as well, to do what it's meant to do."

The younger nods; the one-eyed General stands and bids the other farewell before exiting his quarters. Zhang Liao watches until he disappears behind the door then moves his gaze to the dagger in his hands, gently placing the cool blade against his lips as fresh tears spill. He gently smiles as his memories take him back to a happier day-when he had received this dagger.

It was a calm spring day. He knew that because he was training outside with another officer and recalled that the plum tree in the gardens nearby was in bloom. He was just finishing sparring with the young man before him when he heard his name be beckoned from behind him. He turned and found Lu Bu leaning against the plum tree, his expression as serious as it always was but the General knew better. He dismissed his training partner and approached his dear friend, watching as his scowl melted into the soft smile that only he ever knew. Little was said between the two before the larger General presented him with an item wrapped in black silk-it was small but not enough that Zhang Liao couldn't have noticed it in the other's hands. He gratefully took the gift and carefully pulls apart the silk, revealing a sheathed dagger.

The sheath was black with a gold dragon pattern that looked to wrap around the leather sheathe from the bottom, its visible eye appearing to be a red gemstone of some kind. He is obvious surprised as he takes the weapon into his hand, draping the silk cloth onto his shoulder then pulls the dagger from its sheathe. The dagger was beautifully designed, the blade have a unique curve to it-not as obvious as with a crescent dagger but it was not a straight dagger in any definition. The dragon design seeming painted onto the blade feel smooth under his fingers as he ran them along the pattern to the ebony black handle. He looked back at Lu Bu, who chuckles from the obvious look on surprise on the other's face-the genuine sound of laughter from the other was melodic to the smaller General. Zhang Liao can speak he is pulled into an embrace by the other and eagerly returned it. He felt the other nuzzle against his neck, causing his to fluster slightly from the sudden intimate contact.

"Consider this a repeating gift." He murmured into the other's ear. "As long as you carry it with you into battle, you need not give anything in return but your safety."

"Of course, my love, I promise never to fight without it."

He sighs sadly as he pulls the weapon away, the words of his lover only then making sense to him. The dagger had been meant to protect him in battle, which made sense since the previous battle they had been in before he received the dagger he had been nearly killed by an officer of Wu and spent weeks recovering. Lu Bu had been ordered to remain at the main camp in case of any assaults and was unable to protect him from an ambush that caught him completely off guard. He survived but just barely, and Lu Bu constantly blamed himself for it, even when he assured him it wasn't on multiple occasions. It all made sense at that point, and he felt a twinge of guilt in his heart as he looks over the edge that had been stained with his blood countless times.

"I've abused this blade for too long." He sighs quietly, looking at the dark handle and running his fingers along the unseen engraving, tracing each character of the name as it dances upon his lips, begging to be spoken. "Lu Bu…I'm sorry." He places the dagger on the table beside the bed then looks at the scars on his forearm, running his finger along the fresh wound that just then begins to sting. "Your blade will no longer be used against my own flesh. I promise."


End file.
